


I'm Not Okay

by Silent_Chick



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Depression, Explanations, Frustration, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Negative Thoughts, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers, cursing, personal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 10:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13739292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_Chick/pseuds/Silent_Chick
Summary: What I want to say when someone asks if I'm okay.





	I'm Not Okay

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry y'all. I know y'all are waitin' on chapters to come out but no matter how many times I've tried to jump back into 'em, I can't. This is probably my fourth or fifth post about myself and I thought I was okay. I'm not. I'm so fuckin' sorry for not posting on stories I know y'all are readin'. I just don't wanna write up something and upload it. Y'all deserve nothing but a hundred percent from me and I don't wanna give ya nothin' less. I miss writin' on those stories but I don't want the way I feel right now to be reflected in them. So just know they're not abandoned. I guess I could say I'm havin' a hella of a writer's block...

There’s a hole. A big fucking hole in my chest and maybe even my head. It’s an undesirable feeling that pops up on its on and constantly nags me.

No matter how many times I think I’ve overcome this…this feeling… It comes back. And for some reason it’s just a little bit stronger than the last time.

I try to ignore it, but I can’t no matter what the fuck I do. I just can’t fuckin’ ignore it….

It’s this feeling of worthlessness….

Why do I feel so worthless despite being told countless of times that I’m the exact opposite?

A feeling of being unwanted…

I’m more than just tits, ass, and a pussy, but that seems to be all that’s seen; despite how many layers I have on.

I tried to say, “fuck it”. But obviously that didn’t work.

I thought I loved myself, but that’s also untrue.

I’m not even worth a goddamn date…. Not even a fuckin’ hug or a kiss….

But… it’s not like I’d be interesting enough to keep their attention. So… maybe I am just a walking talking sex toy….

That…. That’s the part that bothers me the most.

I’m so fuckin’ dull!

I have nothing to offer, yet I want a companion. Someone to cheer me up on my bad days or maybe even just attempt to. Someone to hold me even just for a second…

I’ve cried over this and I’m tired of doing so. I’ve gotten angry over this, but who am I angry at?

…I’m tired of being alone…

I want someone who wants me for me. Not just because I have a vagina.

I’m so fuckin’ nice to everyone and somedays I just think, “what happens if just become a bitch?”. For some goddamn reason those are the women guys run after. Who they break their fuckin’ backs for.

As I think about possibly being that way, it makes me feel so fuckin’ terrible. I don’t even like being angry at people. How am I supposed to become a bitch? Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my bitchy moments like everyone else, but I always feel bad about it later.

I’m tired of just being stared at. At work, the store, getting gas, it doesn’t matter; there’s always some guy staring at me.

In my whole fucking life, I’ve only had one boyfriend and I’m almost fuckin’ twenty. And it wasn’t even a damn relationship. It was more of my dumbass thinking some slut of a guy liked me enough to ask me to be his girlfriend ‘cause I was so fuckin’ gullible. He just wanted pussy and he never got it.

‘Oh, don’t focus on guys. You’re still young. Focus on going to school and figuring out what you want to do in life.’

I. Don’t. Wanna. Fuckin’. Hear. It.

It’s not just about having a boyfriend. It’s about having someone I can confide in. Someone I don’t have to be ashamed to cry around. Someone I’m not scared to be myself around. It’s about having someone to fuckin’ help me keep bad thoughts away!

They wouldn’t know it though… I wouldn’t want to make them feel responsible for my state of mind… I’m responsible for it… Obviously…

I’m tired of people leaving me. Of me pushing people away because I’m scared they’re going to hurt me. I may seem like I have a thick skin, but I don’t. Not by a fuckin’ long shot.

It’s a constant thing of distracting myself every goddamn day so I don’t think about anything. But I can’t always do so.

I don’t even have friends for goodness sake…

One…

I have one… friend…

In my mind it’s complex, but honestly it isn’t. We talked for a little bit before we knew what each other looked like and finally I sent a picture of myself and it didn’t go as planned… He was attracted to me. But he didn’t tell me right away.

Then we finally met in person, but before that he had a confession. He said there would be a high chance of him kissing me if we met; with permission. I gave it to him.

After hanging out with him for a little he made me laugh so hard and he was a different person from our texts.

In the texts he would send half sentences and shit like that, but in person he’s so fucking animated.

But, yeah, long story short I’m attracted to him now.

The kiss happened and much much more. But… we’re just friends…

I’m his homegirl in public but his babygirl in private.

So…friends with benefits… I finally figured it out. Well, I’ll be damned.

I have questions, but I don’t want to stop what we have or make things awkward. He’s the only person that’s giving me the attention I crave…

A temporary fix to my troubles…

I sometimes wonder if we didn’t have the relationship we do now, would we be talking everyday like we do. I genuinely think he’s a great person and I like hanging out with him.

You know? At times I wonder what it would be like if I were a robot. An emotionless robot… All the problems I have is because of my emotions and me not knowing how to cope with them.

I’d like to think I’d be a pretty badass robot. Who knows, maybe I’d be a chill ass bot named, Rita. A fuckin’ yoga instructor or something…

Here I am making a joke in a serious fuckin’ post…

But I’ve learned that’s my defense mechanism. Jokes and laughter… I laugh a fuckton that should really tell you something.

I don’t talk a lot. At least in person I don’t. I’m not used to doing so. I’m used to being the shy quiet girl that was practically mute. So with years of being that way, it’s hard to find my voice sort of speak in certain situations.

Funny fact: If I do talk a lot, (which could be a regular amount for someone else), my throat starts to hurt.

I’m not taken seriously and I believe that’s something else that’s fucking with me.

For example, the friend I mentioned earlier, I’ll tell him stuff and be a hundred percent serious and he’ll text back, “lol” or “lmao”.

That’s the type of shit that makes me not want to tell anyone anything. That’s why I keep things to myself because either I’m laughed at or the person just blows over it like I didn’t just say anything serious.

I’ve only found one person that would take me seriously. He always gave me great advice and kind of helped me keep my chin up, but now he’s so busy; it’s rare that I get to talk to him.

…Life is throwin’ me some curveballs and my bat is wearin’ thin.

Smiling through the pain is too much effort now… I’m not happy… I don’t want to tell you I’m okay anymore because I’m not. But I do it anyway because maybe there’s a chance of me saying it enough and me actually believing it. Maybe… Just maybe… I’ll find some peace within my own words…

I’m not proud of myself… This is supposed to help me in some way. Well, that’s what usually happens when I write. So, maybe I should just tell it all.

At one point I changed my eating habits… to not really eating at all. My appetite totally disappeared. It got so bad that when I made myself eat something I’d start to gag after a few bites. I lost weight during this time and no one knew it was because of depression. They just assumed Terra was up to her snacking again.

But before that, I gained weight because of over eating. So, I guess I could say it balanced itself out.

Recently, I’ve thought about harming myself… And possibly… You know where that’s headed. The latter I’ve thought about more and more as of late. It obviously makes me feel like shit to admit that, but that’s the only peace I’m seeing.

I’d never do it though. I’m too afraid to… That and I don’t want to cause any of my family members harm. Just myself…

It’s intriguing what emotions can do to you.

I hate myself… Mainly because of the big heart that I have. My forgiving heart and the niceness that it possesses…

I know it’s okay not to be okay, but how long should it last until it’s not okay?

When does it stop?...


End file.
